She turns to look at him, cataloguing his features. He looks as tired as she feels.

"No." She takes a drink, and then, after a moment's consideration, offers him the glass. "You were not meant to know. We spend our lives among humans, and they never see us. And that is how it is supposed to be."

She gets up and turns off the lights, one by one. The bathroom light. The wall switch. The closet light. Circling the room, like a tiger pacing in its cage. She leaves the bedside lamps for last, turning hers off before pulling back the covers and lying beside him.